


Winds of Freedom

by ShadowEtienne



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix It Fic, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowEtienne/pseuds/ShadowEtienne
Summary: After Order 66, Plo Koon must deal with the reality of a Galaxy where the Jedi are shattered and hunted, but he finds a surprising ally in a Weequay pirate with mysterious connections to the Jedi. Hondo Ohnaka finds his way in a world where one of the foundations of his childhood has been shattered, and is surprised to find a new friend along the way when there are so few people he can trust. And this friend is even one that he can share his memories of the Jedi Temple with, eventually.





	1. Order 66

**Author's Note:**

> Plo Koon is one of my favorite characters in Star Wars, and it makes me sad that he didn't have a terribly ambiguous ending. We know from Clone Wars that he can survive for a bit in space using the Force without any protective equipment, so I'm making a fix it.

Plo Koon led a patrol above Cato Neimoida, the Wolfpack flying in formation behind and above him. He didn't see it coming, but there was a sudden and strange distress from his men, and a small gasped, “No,” on the coms. Plo didn't even know what he was reacting to as he braced himself, taking a deep breath and pushing out with the Force.

 

Everything was burning, but there was no sound. He floated amidst the wreckage, not just his own small ship, but also something much larger. It wasn't the first time Plo had been in space without the proper gear, he could think of one memorable instance with the Wolfpack where they had been stuck in an escape pod, and had to space walk without really the proper gear to fight off droids before their rescue showed up.

 

There was no escape pod to defend now though, and he suspected no rescue coming. For a moment, Plo considered letting out his breath, it would only sustain him for maybe an hour more with what was stored in his ventilator. He could hold his breath for a long time though, longer than probably they would think he could even if they had realized he had made it through the blast.

 

There were ripples in the Force of fear, pain, anguish, and loss. All of this tugged at Plo as he drifted, trying to find the right path to follow. He felt exposed and began pulling more of the wreckage to hide him, using only the barest amount of his connection to the Force. Something almost seemed to be urging him on though. There among the wreckage was a symbol that brought him hope: the markings of a Seperatist escape pod. 

 

He drew the seemingly undamaged escape pod closer. There were no lights, no power. It drifted, having been released without anyone in it. As Plo let his senses flow out into the Force to examine the escape pod, his hopes swelled further. It was stocked and fueled, ready for an occupant, just waiting.

 

It took a while for Plo to figure out the mechanism to open the escape pod from the outside, but he was relieved to finally make his way inside. He powered it up and started the process of breathing normally again. Then, he considered his options. He could drop the escape pod to the planet below, but that had been in the midst of the conflict where his own men had just shot him down. No, that seemed like an unwise option, no matter how well Plo knew he could his fight his way out of a situation.

 

He could set up a distress signal, something on one of the special channels, but there was always the danger that it would be intercepted. If his men had been somehow brought to shooting him down, he didn't know who he could trust. He adjusted the frequencies on the escape pod, listening, hoping for some sort of sign. There was chaos.

 

Jedi were dying, had died, there was an Empire being declared, with Chancellor Palpatine at its head. People were dying, a lot of them. The Jedi were being declared treacherous. And finally, Obi-Wan sent out a message. Plo knew that he could not go back. He was recognizable, and he could not bring harm to Dorin for sheltering him. Few of his people ever left their home. But there was so much that his training demanded he do to help.

 

There was no chance for him to send out a distress signal. Every one of his possible channels could be compromised. Instead, he reached into the Force, calling to the Light, friends. He only hoped that he would be heard. When he felt an echo of a response, no one he recognized, but a hopeful feeling, he let himself drop into a deep meditation, waiting, while continuing to call into the Force.


	2. Known Jedi Sympathizer

Hondo Ohnaka was keeping half an eye on his data pad hidden from view as he sat draped with a great deal more art than he would ever let on in his rather throne like chair, a bottle of alcohol, less touched than he was sure his followers believed, dangling from one hand. It was an effort not to tense and break the image when the tracker he kept on his bounty suddenly tripled in size, with the addition of “Known Jedi Sympathizer” appearing in the updates.

 

Hondo shifted in his seat so he could covertly manipulate the datapad, and it took all his effort to keep his posture relaxed as the information started coming in: the Jedi were being killed, by their own Clones no less, men that Hondo had thought almost hopelessly loyal to their Jedi Generals, at least the ones that had followed Obi-Wan had been.

 

New bounties were popping up all over his feeds, Jedi after Jedi, one for at least each known dead. Hondo did something he hadn't done in decades; he lowered his mental barriers, listening to the Force. For a moment, he wished he hadn't, that he'd just focused on the data. It was almost too much pain to bear, and Hondo had appearances to keep up. He thought of the young nearly Jedi he had met not that long ago, and he endured though, still hopeful. The Jedi were very good at surviving and getting out of trouble after all. 

 

As the initial pain and death broadcast through the Force dwindled, Hondo felt fear, so much fear. He didn't recognize anyone at first, there was nothing to distinct, and Hondo didn't know how he could help, if he could help.

 

There was a signal sent out from the Jedi Temple, and Obi-Wan was alive, perhaps not alright, but surviving, and Hondo decided, perhaps he could not help his maybe friend, but there were probably Jedi out there, the ones Obi-Wan’s message was directed to, and Hondo could perhaps help find them.

 

Then he felt it, one of the brightest presences in the Force he'd ever experienced. There was a pull, a call of sorts, and he recognized where it was coming from. He'd run smuggled supplies through the system not that long ago. He looked over his followers. They were his, but he didn't trust most of them, they were there for themselves, not for him, but there were a few who were friends, and loyal, more so perhaps than they should be.

 

Hondo signaled to three of his closest followers and slipped from the room, leaving the party of a good haul behind and headed for his personal ship. A Jedi needed his help.


	3. A Strange Alliance

Plo had not been drifting along the currents of the Force in meditation for nearly as long as he would have expected when a ship began to edge its way through the debris towards his location. He watched it, fascinated that it was utterly not what he had expected. If anything, it reminded him of the Weequay pirate ships that he’d had to deal with on a few occasions. He figured that it could not be that though, unless perhaps a Jedi had stolen one.

 

The ship scooped up his escape pod soon enough, along with several other things from the debris of battle, and Plo wondered what he would be greeted by when he entered the ship itself. The ship jumped into hyperspace the moment the escape pod was sealed onto it, before the airlocks had had a chance to cycle, and Plo resigned himself to figuring out this situation as he went along.

 

There was little dignity in exiting an escape pod, and he was a bit surprised, though less than he might have been to see Hondo Ohnaka leaning nonchalantly against the frame of the airlock on the ship side. When Plo staggered his way out of the airlock, finding his equilibrium, mental and physical, as quickly as he could, Ohnaka stood gracefully, and spread his arms, saying, “Jedi Master Plo Koon! My old friend! How delightful to see you! I hope that you will not mind my somewhat lacking hospitality at this juncture, but as a known Jedi sympathizer, I must be careful in these suddenly trying times.”

 

Plo considered Ohnaka, and gave him a slight nod. He said, “I am most grateful for your rescue, but how did you find me?”

 

Ohnaka’s jovial posture dropped for a moment, and in a quiet, serious voice, he said, “I started looking for Jedi I could find as soon as I heard. I may not be a Jedi, but I can at least follow that much of their way.”

 

Then, his tone cheerful again, he continued, as though nothing else had been said, “Well these battles always leave such excellent scrap! It sells for good money, and escape pods with survivors are always worth investigating.”

 

Plo nodded, considering what Ohnaka had said carefully. He thought, perhaps, that the pirate knew more of the Jedi than he would generally have admitted. There was a very soft echo in the Force around the Weequay pirate, and Plo had a moment’s vision of a young face, not so different from Ohnaka’s if many years were removed, watching intently as Plo demonstrated forms for the younglings.

 

Plo did not ask if that had been Ohnaka though: it did not seem the right time for such a question. Instead, he followed the pirate into the main hold of the ship, converted into some sort of lounge. Ohnaka introduced him to the pilot and another Weequay who he had brought with him, but the two of them quickly disappeared to the flight deck of the ship, leaving Ohnaka alone with Plo again.

 

Ohnaka lounged on a chair, one arm thrown over its arm, and waved a hand at another similar chair, saying, “Sit, sit, my friend. We have much to discuss. We are returning to Florrum as we speak, though not my main base, it is too well known, and as a known Jedi sympathizer, well, I would rather let the rascals I’ve left there deal with those looking for my head. It is far too precious to me for them to have it. You will not want to stay on Florrum though, I think. Where would a Kel Dor Jedi want to go after the fall of the Jedi order? I saw Kenobi’s broadcast, and it is a shame, Corruscant was of course so beautiful with the Jedi Temple.”

 

Plo considered his question, and he replied delicately, “I had not gotten so far as to be sure of a rescue, Ohnaka. I am, I would guess, on the run now. It is not a condition that I am used to. There are those that I might consider seeking out, but I think that I might be too much of a danger to them for the time being. Perhaps I will have to go alone and seek those I can help. There is great evil that moves in the Force, and I feel that I must be a small force to work against it.”

 

Ohnaka grinned at him and said, “Well said Master Jedi, well said! I perhaps have an offer for you then. You could work with me for a bit, and I could help you find your way. I would happily sell you a ship for the price of your help in some of my dealings, and then you could find your own way, or if you find you like it here, then we could continue to work together. But first, you must simply call me Hondo, like all of my friends.”

 

Plo considered the pirate, Hondo, and wondered for a moment again what secrets he held. Plo steepled his fingers, pressing them against the front of his mask lightly, and asked, “How do I know that I can trust you not to turn me over for a bounty, Hondo?”

 

Hondo threw back his head, laughing with his whole body, and pulled a datapad out of his cloak, turning it so Plo could see. There was an image of Hondo, showing a reward for his capture, dead or alive, with the seal of the newly declared Empire. Hondo said proudly, “My bounty is nearly as big as a Jedi’s! It is a great compliment, but even I am not so foolish as to risk bringing someone to those who would like to capture me as well in hopes of a reward. It seems more than foolhardy. And after all,  like it says, I’m a known Jedi sympathizer. It would hardly do for me to let them down in their expectations.”

 

Plo considered him for a while in silence. Hondo was not at all the kind of person that he was used to, but he didn’t sense any malice from Hondo. The pirate clearly believed what he was saying fairly well. Though Plo suspected that given the right impetus, Hondo would change his mind as quickly as Obi-Wan went through new robes. He did not trust Hondo precisely, but he thought perhaps that the Weequay was reliable in his own way.

 

Finally, just as Hondo was starting to shift uncomfortably, Plo said, “I will work with you for a time Hondo, but you must call me by just my name, Plo Koon, or simply Plo, will do, for that is what my friends call me. It is no longer safe to be a Jedi.”

 

Hondo sprang from his chair and came to drop an arm across Plo’s shoulders. He nearly sang, his voice rocking from note to note, “Ah, how wonderful an ally, better than I ever could have wished for. First of all, Plo Koon, my good friend, we will need to find a change of clothes for you, something less conspicuous than these ridiculous robes.”

 

Plo glanced down and let out a breathy laugh, strangely twisted and amplified by the mask, and then said, “I guess we must find something else for me to wear. But I would still like to be able to carry my lightsaber.”

 

Hondo nodded, and went to a small door that led to living quarters on the ship, coming back quickly with several items of clothing, including a brown hooded cape that was strangely reassuring to Plo. It was similar enough to a Jedi cloak to feel natural, but different enough to not look like one to a passer’s eye. Hondo held up several items to him, and then handed them to him or put them the side. The pirate shooed him into the living quarters saying, “Try those on, whatever fits is yours as my new partner. Try to have as much of a sense of style as you can, though I know that it is not the way of the Jedi with all of their beige. Remember, pirates are much more fashionable, it lends us an air of respectability that helps with the customers.”   
  


Plo repressed a chuckle, not wanting to encourage Hondo, but followed his bidding, finding comfortable enough clothes in blues, greens, and browns among the things that Hondo had handed to him. He attached his lightsaber carefully with a sheath on his right arm under a billowing sleeve so that he could grab it with his left hand easily if the need arose.

 

When he emerged, Hondo applauded, “Ah yes, if I had a hat that would suit you, it would complete the look, but a hood will have to do for now. You look a proper pirate.”

 

Plo sighed and shook his head, waiting for Hondo to tell him what he was planning.


	4. Missions and Memories

Having a Jedi on board his ship for longer than a day or two was apparently making Hondo think about the past. He’d not done that much in a long time, not since he’d finally left his old lightsaber behind in the remains of a fight, deciding that it was too conspicuous. He liked being conspicuous only when he felt like it after all, and while the lightsaber was a very effective weapon in the right circumstances, those were rarely his circumstances anymore. 

 

Sometimes, he still wanted the lightsaber and everything it had stood for back though, not that he entirely felt that he’d had the right to keep it even if he had earned it. Hondo usually didn’t let himself think that way about things that had come into his possession anymore: if he had it, it was his after all, but there was was some remnant of his earlier feelings about lightsabers that made it so that he hadn’t even been able to steal them properly from the younglings he’d intercepted that one time. He wondered if they had made it through everything, especially the very clever young lady who’d impressed him.

 

He wondered if Plo suspected. He’d certainly given some rather broad hints, on the other hand, he also was not at all what a Jedi would expect of a former initiate. He’d not met Plo often when he’d been at the Temple either.

 

The Jedi was staring out through the viewport into space, what Hondo could tell of his expression behind the mask and goggles was distant and a little lost, though his physical presence exuded calm. Hondo wanted to disrupt that calm somehow, see what was under it. He was curious.

 

He grinned when something came up on his datapad. He swung around in his chair to face Plo instead of staring at him out of the corner of his eye before saying, “My friend! I have a mission for the two of us. One that will be quite lucrative, but I think still be suitable for you and your Jedi ways. There is a certain Senator who is offering a very good price for a smuggler to run supplies to a world that was affected by the war. One that the empire doesn’t seem to want things run to. I seem to remember that you are a very good pilot my friend, would you care to help me?”

 

Plo turned to look at him, hands lowering to the arms of the chair he had stationed himself in. Plo looked thoughtful for a second and then replied, “That seems like a reasonable enough proposal. May I see the mission details?”

 

Hondo looked at the hand that Plo had extended for the datapad, and realized that he’d not considered the addition of a Jedi to his crew entirely. Most of his crew could not read much more than what was needed for basic accounting, and so the quickly passing information of his data feeds meant nothing to them. They would probably recognize that he monitored his own bounty, but other than that, Hondo knew that if they looked at his datapad, they wouldn’t be able to learn many or any of his secrets. Plo, however, could learn a lot.

 

Hondo glanced at his datapad, and quickly rearranged what was showing on the screen. He hid the now static feed for the ExplorCorps that he’d managed to keep himself attached too despite having left most of his lifetime before. He hid most of the feeds that he had on things relating to the Jedi, but he did not close things, that would have been admitting to himself that it was over. Finally he made it so that the information on the mission took up most of the page, and then he handed the datapad, somewhat nervously, to Plo.

 

The Jedi read over it carefully, nodding, before turning back to Hondo. He said, “This seems reasonable enough. I could hazard a guess at who among the Senators would have sent this, but I suspect that you know enough to be confident in this Senator, and that there’s a reason that their name is not showing. The World in question could certainly use the relief supplies, and as long as we are not charging them for those supplies, I am content to help.”

 

Hondo nodded and beckoned Plo to follow him to the even smaller transport shuttle that attached to his personal ship. He ducked into the navigation room of the main ship, telling his crew that they could bring the ship back to the base, and that he and Plo would meet back up with them there, or send word of where to meet them, before finally going to the small ship.

 

Plo was quiet as he followed along behind, but Hondo was fairly sure that he detected a hint of approval from the Jedi. He was to unsure of himself to see what he could feel if he reached out into the Force, and he didn’t want Plo to know too much of his history too soon.


End file.
